


Dismantled

by levitatethis



Category: True Blood
Genre: Angst, F/M, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-22
Updated: 2009-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-06 19:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levitatethis/pseuds/levitatethis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to mainline is not easy for Bill and the truth undoes everything</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dismantled

_“You came to grind me into stone   
Polishing the angled flesh and bone   
The smallest cut to drain my soul   
Precious words of comfort swallowed whole   
Oh no she said   
I tried for love   
And I died for love   
But I'd kill for you”_   
**-Moist, **_**Kill For You**_

 

Being human, or at least trying to tap into it again, is something Bill has to work on.

Mainlining is about playing a part that has become less natural with each day that passes since he was first turned. It is cumbersome and strange and of absolute importance. Each second, it tries to slip free from his deathly grasp, spilling midnight black across the plains where his soul once dwelled.

His struggle is a joke to those who accept their rebirth, their recreation as the destined path of revelation.

Whisper. Snarl. Taunt. Mewl.

He is as much an anomaly in the midst of his immortal peers as he is amongst the humans who populate the world he tries to inhabit. In many ways he is a creature of darkness beholden to none.

Now _one_.

_I can smell the sunlight on your skin._

The awe with which he first spoke that wondrous realization is as frighteningly intense and real all this time later. For well over a hundred years he thought it impossible and then suddenly it was like he was seeing the day again—he tastes it as he licks and nips his way up her thighs and across her stomach; hears it in the thunderous rhythm of her heartbeat as her body awakens to the rush of him pressing against her; sees it in the glow of her skin made bright by the blood thrumming below, mercy at his beckon call.

She arches up and writhes below him, twisting and turning in perfect response to his movements. He knows she is the answer he has been searching for. She challenges him—questioning a past he is to be held accountable for (while she has little true understanding of it) and demanding he give her space to figure out her place in all of it (letting judgments from first time experiences have more say than willingly hearing him detail the good, the bad and the downright ugly).

She embraces him—seeing the goodness in his intentions, understanding the needs his survival depends on (and every time she offers her bared neck to him it is her acceptance of his difference) and coming back after she has cooled down from the heat of conflict to start again.

His love for her is immeasurable, but there _is_ a price. He feels it pressing down the more their worlds collide, bending in on each other and squeezing out the spaces to breathe until all that exists is the (suffocating) new world order.

Despite his best efforts, there will come a time to collect.

 

************ ********** ********** ********** **********   
**

 

“No.”

Definitive and unwavering, it is a guaranteed death sentence.

Bill watches Eric raise his right eyebrow in annoyed jest at the blatant disrespect for his ranked superior. Bill pulls his lips into a tight line and folds his arms across his chest to complete the defiant (though foolhardy) stance. Their gaze never breaking, Eric appears a contradiction that makes Bill uneasy.

Although his hands are pushed casually in his pant pockets, despite standing slightly hunched over (removing inches from his intimidating frame) with his head angled down as he stares up, Eric is far from being flexibly accommodating. Rather his body language is commanding and deceptively easy going. It is a trap. Eric does not placate. He lets his prey slip in and then snaps the cage into place. More often than not it looks like he is putting up with the unfortunate quirks of others. Tonight he seems particularly unimpressed.

“You say that as if this is a negotiation,” Eric tones flatly. “I’m not sure if that’s sweet or delusional.”

“Sookie is not a toy for you to play with.” Bill stands his ground knowing full well what Eric is capable of as a vampire and as a sheriff. “I won’t let you put her life in danger yet again.”

Eric slowly (too nonchalantly) steps forward, casting a furtive glance to his left when Pam (with an air of distaste) jokes, “Ain’t love grand?”

Bill eyes her standing by the door with one hand placed pointedly on her hip, rolling her eyes and a twitch of a smile on her lips. Eric recaptures his attention by coming to a standstill in his space with about a foot between them.

“If she were any other human we wouldn’t be having this _misunderstanding_.” Eric holds him in a fixed glare. “You didn’t really think you that you could keep her all for yourself?”

“She didn’t ask for any of this—,”

“Yet here she is.” Eric looks over at Pam who returns a knowing smile. He then says to Bill, “This is a courtesy because of the well appreciated help you’ve been to the   
Queen—,”

Bill flinches at the mention.

Eric continues in a more affectionate tone, “And to me when your services have been requested.”

Bill’s stoic countenance falters and the first traces of panic are obvious on his furrowed brow and apologetic shake of his head. Hushed but forceful, he pleads, “There must be another way, another person you can call on?”

“Don’t make me force your hand.”

“Try it.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Bill is surprised when Eric backs up three steps. With anyone else it would be a gesture of submission. With Eric it is a cause for concern as it highlights steadfast aggression, verging on the sharp snap of a pounce.

“Relationships are built on trust, Bill.” Eric gestures to Pam who walks to his side. “Take Pam and I.” He smiles at her. “We know where we stand with each other and have known it from the beginning.”

“Honesty is the best policy.” Pam tosses an exaggerated nod in Bill’s direction.

Eric looks at him. “Can the same be said for you and your human?”

Worry courses through Bill’s body. He can feel the seams ripping at the life he is desperate to hold onto. The dye has been cast and conviction is lacking in his voice when he says, “Don’t do this.”

“Sookie has such romantic notions.” Pam folds her arms across her chest with an expression that would appear bored if not for the jovial tone in her voice that paints an unnerving contrast.

“I can just imagine how heartbroken she will be to find out that the night you met in Merlotte’s was far from an accident.” Eric plays the trump card.

Bill closes his eyes in resignation and lost hope, but there is no salvation to be found.

When he opens them, Eric is grinning.

 

************ ********** ********** ********** ************

 

The truth shall set you free.

After it finishes annihilating everything in its path.

He is cut loose and spun out of control. The lie that became the truth—but all that matters is that it was a lie first. Even now when he closes his eyes he sees Sookie staring back so accusatory and angry, so sad.

Jessica eyes him warily. Where once she had a quick tongue for the shortcomings she perceived in him as her maker, now she treads carefully, finally seeing the darkness he once reveled in then fought so hard to bury.

At least Eric is a vampire of his word; too bad for Bill that those words are a weapon. Eric followed through on his warning and Bill’s one semblance of life—real _life_—in the form of a woman, slipped away forever. He doesn’t know what is worse. That he can smell her scent on Eric in a way that confirms what he has dreaded (_you were simply a stepping stone to the real deal_) or that they both go out of their way not to rub it in his face as if what they have is too real for his delicate senses.

He remembers…

_“It was all a set up?” _

_“At first, but—,” _

_“You made me fall in love with you knowing full well you’d break my heart, and for what? A job?” _

_“It’s not like that, Sookie! My feelings for you are absolutely real.” _

_“Really? So you’re saying that from that night when you came into my home and were all polite conversation with my Grams, when we walked together and you made me feel like I finally met someone I could just be me with, that your intentions were honourable?” _

_“…” _

_“I’ll take that as a no.” _

_“Let me explain—,” _

_“Goddamn you, Bill. I invited you into my house. Twice!”_

Self-pity to rage is the quickest rebound. Insular and spoiling for a fight, Bill is reckless in the same way he had been when he first ran with a nest, a group of vampires that acted as a dysfunctional and highly dangerous family. He lets his baser instinct desires run wild in every way except for indiscriminate sex. It sounds saccharine and overly sentimental, but having tasted the body rushing calm before the storm—overwhelmed by the details of being _with_ Sookie (in heart and mind)—he cannot set it aside and taint the memory with random transgressions.

Rage eventually gives way to reclamation of much needed purpose and he resettles. New work—expanding on the international vampire database he had begun—keeps him busy and though ‘out of sight, out of mind’ isn’t quite true, it suffices.

But he can still feel her. All this time later and their bond, the one she believes to be predicated on a lie, reminds him of what once was. He knows when she is scared, worried, thrilled even.

And he knows that it has nothing to do with him anymore.  
 

 

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

 

Eric calls in a favour, which is how Bill comes to find himself with Eric, Pam, Chow and an annoyed looking Sookie in her living room.

Bill notes that Sookie’s displeasure is aimed at Eric (who in turn appears unconcerned as there are bigger issues to worry about) and he muffles a smile at the knowledge that she is resisting the increasing bond with Eric that comes with excessive blood sharing. It is an intimate connection but can also be scary in the level of dependency and expectation it entails. Sookie’s never been a fan of being told what to do or protected for her own sake at another’s behest. It’s good to see a little tension between them.

The bigger curiosity for Bill is that he was able to enter her house without an invitation, meaning she had not rescinded it. Considering their falling out, the unexpected discovery induces a flood of questions and feelings that Bill is urgent to answer, if only for peace of mind.

Worse still, it gives him hope—even as he is moving on to some extent—that their shared past is not the mistake it was made out to be but something worth remembering with some fondness. Feelings may be one sided now or forever altered, but they had been in love once.

The request being made of Bill is to escort (re: act as a bodyguard for) Sookie on the way to an emergency meeting declared for all the southern sheriffs that is taking place in Raleigh. Eric is convinced that underhanded dealings are in play and as such needs to go ahead with other business before meeting them there. As much as Bill knows the tense respect between he and Eric is genuine, he also knows that this request is not easy to make given the Sookie factor.

With plans in place Pam and Chow make their exit out the front door while Eric presses a kiss to Sookie’s forehead. Her frustration aside, she leans into it and closes her eyes. The remaining embers of jealousy flare in Bill and he looks away until Eric leaves.

It has been a long time since the two of them have been alone in this house. Where it once felt comfortable it now feels awkward yet vaguely familiar. _Who says you can’t go home again?_ He smiles to himself, letting loose a tiny scoff and Sookie eyes him curiously.

Bill fixes a serious expression in place and steps tentatively forward. “I’m sure this is an inconvenience for you, but Eric knows what he’s doing.” Lowering his voice he adds, “He knows I’ll do everything to protect you.”

Sookie regards him for a few seconds, with her mouth half parted and faint lines of contemplation across her forehead. She shakes her head and says, “Eric wanted Chow to watch out for me. I’m the one who told him that if my life is really in need of protecting then it should be you. I…insisted.”

Bill is nonplussed by the admission given how strained things have been between them and retorts, “To prove that your bond with him is not so easily broken?” His bitter tone is not intentional but the words are out of his mouth before he can edit them.

Cordial conversations are a recent phenomenon, preceded by weeks of her ignoring him completely when he tried to explain himself. The next stage was the stilted strangeness of them ignoring each other while moving on with their own separate lives. Then there was the muted resignation of acceptance while being fully aware of the undeniable fact that their paths would continue to regularly cross. Being mature was a requirement but in a split second Bill suffers a moment of weakness.

Sookie does not take the bait. “You’re in no position to tell me why I do anything.” She angrily puts her hands on her hips.

Although she has a legitimate point he is frustrated at the definitive way she sometimes sees the world with expectations of others that are simply not possible—perfection. Others have done unimaginable things that she has somehow managed to work beyond but he keeps feeling like he is making a series of missteps when it comes to her.

Furrowing his brow and looking up at her with his head tilted down, he says, “You have always held me to an unattainable standard.”

Reverently she replies, “You were my first _everything_. You _are_ the damn standard.”

Her confession strikes deep as all the months he thought she had swept aside what they once had turn out to be as difficult and unalterable for her as for him. What was is as relevant and can never be denied. Nor should it be. Alongside the love they shared (and still do though its perimeters have been shifted about) is the hurt, interconnected in a crisscross pattern.

He watches her drop her shoulders and look to the floor before turning around and walking to the staircase. “I’ll head out,” he says quietly with a quick glance to the front door.

Sookie stops on the first step up to the second floor and turns to look at him, her right hand on the railing. “Or you could stay. Your space…the space you made is still here.”

Bill holds her gaze, fighting to contain the smile that widens his eyes at the news that the space he cleared out below the floor of her bedroom closet for when he used to stay the night is still there; and being offered to him.

She must see the uncertainty on his face because she quickly adds, “It’d be nice to have familiar company again. Who knows what’ll happen tomorrow.” She nervously offers him a half-grin.

Bill returns a closed mouth smile and nods as he approaches the stairs and follows her up. Halfway there he stops. “Sookie?”

Again she turns, now two steps ahead of him.

“Are you happy?” he asks.

She considers her answer. “Up until a couple of years ago I thought I was the strangest thing in this world and then I found out I’m not even close to being the strangest.”

Bill’s eyes soften in understanding and her face light lights up in away he recalls fondly from (too) long ago.

“As much as I can be happy right now—yes, I am.”

There is still an edge of disappointment that Bill feels at her honesty (knowing the place he no longer holds in her heart) but more importantly is the indescribable relief that dwarfs it. He wonders if he is truly letting go of her or if they are only now getting to a place where beginning again can be found on equal footing.

“Good.” He nods, meaning it.  
 

 

************ ********** ********** ********** ************

 

Bill is not even five seconds in his seat at Merlotte’s when Sookie places a warmed bottle of Tru Blood in front of him. Exchanging smiles he feels a sense of coming full circle. It is like old times again but without the suggestive innuendo. At the very least it beats the months that she hated the sight of him and only remained his waitress out of professional courtesy for herself.

“No Jessica?” she inquires and he flits his eyes up the smooth line of her neck, emphasized by her long hair pulled up into a ponytail.

“Not tonight.” He wraps his hand around the drink. “She has plans with Hoyt.”

Sookie grins and widens her eyes in surprise. Placing her left hand on her hip she muses, “And you let her go without a chaperone? That’s very progressive of you.”

“She’s had to take on a lot, considering everything. For my part I’m trying to be _more understanding_,” he stresses the last part with a knowing smile and raised eyebrow.

Their gaze holds until she wrinkles her brow and purses her lips in annoyance, looking off to the side. He does not need to read minds to know a wave of judgmental thoughts have pummeled into her from the other patrons. He hates the intrusion and wants to glamour the lot of them into minding their own business.

Finally she settles a sweet smile on him and says, “I gotta get back to work.” Walking away she stops and turns on her heels. “If you need anything else…”

Bill raises his drink to her in salute and takes a sip when she goes back to the other tables. He lowers the bottle and takes in the busy atmosphere. Besides the few rude or curious humans who eye him with unabashed dislike or blatant interest, most see him as just another member of the community. A group of rowdy young men holler and laugh at the pool table, families, groups of friends and a handful of couples fill up the booths and scattered tables, and a multitude of conversations fill the air.

Sam meets his eyes from the bar and though they are far from friendly there is an undercurrent of understanding between them that has maintained an uneasy peace. Still, Sam quickly ascertains Sookie’s location then glances at Bill before talking to a customer.

Bill hears the jukebox click to a new song and looks its way in time to see a middle age woman pull her partner over to a makeshift dance floor where they wrap their arms around each other. He is captivated by their incredible closeness, heads bowed into the crooks over each other’s necks, eyes closed, breathing in unison. He misses that feeling of invincibility that can come from knowing there is someone else who believes in you. The jukebox calls out a siren’s song.

_‘Backbeat the word is on the street   
That the fire in your heart is out.   
I’m sure you’ve heard it all before   
But you never really had a doubt.   
I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do   
About you now._’

Bill watches the couple, seemingly cutting themselves off from everyone else, intently. It is as if an invisible barrier has been enacted around them, offering protection from destructive elements. Of course, he knows better. ‘Love conquers all’ is a moving theory but it fights an upward battle in the real world. There are too many other factors at play with their own designs in mind.

Still, it is the thought that counts.

Slowly he raises the drink to his lips and with a tiny smile takes a swig.

 

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/levitatethis/pic/000bcgy7/)   
__

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: 'I wouldn't do that if I were you' from **greyelveneyes**


End file.
